


a strong right hook

by scarletite



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletite/pseuds/scarletite
Summary: The girl bit her lip. "I hit you really hard.""It happens.""Does it?""Usually by five-year-olds with a much weaker right hook," Carmilla mused, "but yes."[AKA: In which Carmilla, hapless haunted house worker, gets clocked in the face by a tiny blonde.]





	a strong right hook

"I'm so, so sorry!"

Carmilla glowered, though the effect was somewhat dampened by the wad of tissues pressed to her nose. "For the twentieth time, it's fine."

"But I punched you, and your nose is bleeding, and this is really not how I pictured my evening going when my friends said they had 'a really fun plan for tonight', you know?" The girl pulled another wad of tissues from her backpack, holding them out. "I'm not a big fan of haunted houses—" Carmilla muttered _obviously_ under her breath, "—but they made me come in, and I really didn't want to, and now I probably broke your nose, and _I'm so sorry_!"

She swapped the tissues out, grimacing at the stain of red. "It's not broken."

"Are you sure?" The girl bit her lip. "I hit you really hard."

"It happens."

"Does it?"

"Usually by five-year-olds with a much weaker right hook," Carmilla mused, "but yes."

That earned an embarrassed look from the girl, probably the twentieth that she'd worn in the past ten minutes. "Have I mentioned I'm _super_ sorry?"

"Only about fifty times."

"Sorry," the girl apologized reflexively, then winced. "I mean, we're Canadian—apologizing is what we do, right?"

Carmilla rolled her eyes. "Speak for yourself. I grew up in the city. Apologizing is for chumps."

"I'm a small-town girl," she admitted. "'Please' and 'thank you' and 'sorry for almost breaking your nose' is kind of mandatory."

That made Carmilla look her up and down. The open expression, the sadly slumped shoulders, the embarrassed wringing of her hands. Definitely not a city girl. More kicked puppy, if anything. The thought made her smile. "Ouch,  _fuck_." It immediately dropped. "Ugh. Well, you don't hit like one."

"I'm a black belt."

"Yeah, that explains my shattered septum."

The girl's expression lit up with panic. "I thought you said it wasn't broken!"

"Relax," Carmilla reached out, pushing the girl back to her seat before she could really rise. "I'm joking. It hurts like a bitch, but I'll be fine."

"You're already bruising," the girl noted, reaching out to snag the soiled tissues from Carmilla's hand, tossing them into the trashcan and shoving more into her hand. She winced. "Do you have any ice packs around here?"

Carmilla shrugged. "We're in a garage. Check the freezer."

The girl stood up from her precarious perch on a stack of old tires, making her way over to the chest freezer in the corner. "I'm Laura, by the way."

"Great, now I know who to file assault charges against." She forestalled any panicking, or complaints, with a wave of her hand. "Carmilla."

"Well, it's nice to meet you. Though," Laura winced, "I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Definitely not my preferred method of meeting pretty girls." The freezer slammed shut loudly. "Usually, I prefer a nice, candlelit dinner over getting clocked in the face at work. But call me old-fashioned."

Laura shoved a bag of frozen peas into Carmilla's face. "Here!"

"Ah, shit!" Carmilla jumped. "Are you trying to  _actually_ break my nose? Warn a girl next time."

"Sorry!" Laura settled across from her, awkwardly looking away. A deep flush covered her face, reaching from her ears down into the collar of her shirt. She chewed on her lip. "Sorry. They didn't have any ice."

Carmilla pulled the tissues away from her face, relieved to note the bleeding had stopped. "Well, I think both of our nights aren't going as planned, huh?" She held the peas up to her nose, shivering. "Why were you even here if you don't like haunted houses? I mean, scary as my vampire outfit is," she gestured at the leather pants and bared the fang implants she wore, "I don't think it needed the extra blood."

Laura shook her head. "My friends wanted to come."

"And?" Carmilla raised a brow. "You don't seem like the 'gives in to peer-pressure' type."

"I'm not. Well, not normally." Laura looked away. "I—the girl I liked came."

The _girl_ she liked. Carmilla filed that piece of information away. "Liked?"

That earned a half-hearted shrug. "Danny," she replied. "We have class together. She, uh, brought her boyfriend with her."

"Oh." Carmilla softened, just a little, at the disheartened note in her voice. "Well, she doesn't know what she's missing."

"Thanks."

"A strong right-hook, that's for sure."

"I don't think punching vampires in haunted houses was what my dad envisioned when he paid for my self-defense classes." Laura actually laughed. The sound was bright, warm. "Though, I think he'd be proud that I can defend myself."

"Congratulations, cutie. You successfully fought off a creature of the night." Carmilla cracked a small smile, only wincing a little. She carefully pulled the peas away. "You're tougher than you look."

"Thanks?" Laura frowned. "Not sure if that's a compliment, but…"

"' _Though she be but little_ ,  _she is fierce_.' Shakespeare." Carmilla gently prodded her nose, relieved when it didn't twinge nearly so much. "Consider it your tagline for Ultimate Fighter."

Laura pouted. "Okay, I'm not that much shorter than you!"

"I don't make the rules." Carmilla shrugged. "You're fun-sized. Accept it."

"I'm suddenly regretting hitting you less and less."

"Careful, sweetheart. My wounds are still too fresh to make jokes." She winked. "It's not too late to press charges. You did break my nose, after all."

Laura's head dropped backwards, she groaned at the ceiling. "You're the worst."

"Now, is that any way to treat the person you just grievously injured?"

"Well, you're looking fine to me."

" _Fine_ , huh?" Carmilla smirked. "Careful, creampuff. I'm at work."

Laura covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god."

"No, just me."

"Are you always like this?"

"Maybe it's the concussion," Carmilla mused.

"Okay, I'm leaving." Laura stood up. "You're clearly feeling better, and I should really get back to my friends. There's no signal in here, and I'm pretty sure they think I actually got eaten by a vampire at this point."

Carmilla set the bag of peas down, standing up too. "Come on, then. I'll take you back."

"You—you don't have to do that!" Laura protested. "You should probably just, y'know, sit down and relax. You're already bruising, and your face is all bloody. Actually, do you need me to call someone for  _you_?"

"I'll be fine." Carmilla shrugged off the concern. "Besides, somebody's got to make sure you don't suffer a heart attack, or accidentally murder one of my co-workers on the way out. It's bad for business."

Laura's shoulders dropped a little at that claim, cheeks reddening. She didn't refute it. "Alright, well, maybe you should do something about the blood on your face?"

Carmilla just flashed her fangs. "Why? I think it enhances my character."

"That's gross."

Rolling her eyes, Carmilla made her way over to the sink in the corner of the garage. "Fine." She turned the water on, scrubbing gently at her face. When she was done, she leaned back, mopping the water off her face with the hem of her shirt. "There, happy?"

Laura's eyes snapped back to Carmilla's face, away from her bared stomach. "Yes! Great! Fantastic!"

A sliver of amusement passed across Carmilla's face, but she didn't comment. "Let's get going then."

Shoulders stiffening, Laura turned back towards the door they'd bustled through—or, well, that she'd stumbled after Carmilla through—and winced. As if to make a point, a chorus of screams resounded through it. "Yup. Totally looking forward to it."

Carmilla stepped up beside her, eyes sly. "You can hold my hand if you want."

Laura practically choked. "I don't—I'm not—"

"Come on." Carmilla caught the girl's hand in her own, smirking when she didn't try and pull it away. "Let's get you back to your friends, hm?"

"Right." Laura stared down at their hands. "My friends. Yeah."

 

* * *

 

Perry checked her phone anxiously. "Where could she be?"

At her side, LaFontaine patted her arm. "Don't worry, Perr. I'm sure she's fine." They paused. "Or passed out somewhere inside."

"We should go look for her." Perry's eyes darted towards the house, chewing on her lip. "She's never been good with scary things. What if something happened? We should've gone looking as soon as we lost her."

They grimaced. "Relax, Perry. She'll turn up."

"Kirsch and I can go look for her," Danny suggested, frowning. "I'm sure she's in there somewhere. It's not like her to go wandering off."

"Sure." LaFontaine shrugged. "We'll stay here and wait. Text if you find her."

Danny and Kirsch waved, weaving between the throngs of teenagers and young children, and made their way back up the stairs into the old mansion. "Will do."

Turning back to Perry, LaFontaine sighed. "We'll find her."

"Where could she be?" Perry fretted, sending another text. "This is really unlike her."

"Yeah, maybe taking Laura to a haunted house wasn't the best idea," LaFontaine mused. "She spent a month sleeping with the lights on after we watched Lights Out."

A few minutes of worrying and soft reassurance followed, and still no word from Danny or Kirsch. But, before LaFontaine gave in to Perry's demands to go inspect the house themselves, they looked up and spotted a familiar figure emerging from the house.

"Hey, there's Laura!" They nudged Perry, pointing. Then paused. "Wait, isn't that the vampire lady she's with?"

Perry let out a gasp. "Oh."

LaFontaine considered they dark-haired girl whose hands were linked with Laura's. "Wow." They whistled, eyebrows rising. "Guess we know what—or who—Laura was doing."

"Carm!" Laura pulled the girl over by the hand. "These are my friends, Perry and LaF."

The girl followed. "Hey."

"Sorry I'm late," Laura apologized. "I, uh, ran into a little trouble inside."

"I'm trouble." The girl smirked. "And it was more like 'punched trouble in the face.'"

Laura groaned. "Do you have to tell everyone?"

"Well, how else would I explain your fist-shaped bruise on my face, sweetheart?"

" _Guys_ ," Laura turned away from her. "This is Carmilla. Who I may or may not have punched in the face. By accident, before you ask. Although, I no longer feel bad about it."

Carmilla laughed. "No guilt. That's another strike in the sociopath column, cutie."

"Nice to meet you," Perry replied, flicking Laura a frown.

LaFontaine considered her face. "That's a sweet bruise. She got you good."

"Mm, Ronda Rousey here throws a wicked punch."

"I am a black-belt," Laura repeated, huffing. "Of course I do."

LaFontaine's eyes slid away from the bruised face, down, to where both girls were holding hands still. They didn't even appear to notice they were doing it. It made them grin. "So, I take it you had a good time, Mina Harker?"

It took a moment for Laura to process, but they could tell the moment she did, because she turned scarlet. "We didn't—we're not—" Laura stuttered, trying to put together a coherent sentence. "Nothing happened!"

"Ouch," Carmilla smirked, squeezing her hand tighter. "Let a girl down easy, creampuff. First you crush my septum, then my heart?"

Laura turned to her, gaping. "You're not helping!"

"So, is that a no on dinner, then?" Carmilla asked, something more earnest slipping into her eyes. The smirk faded, replaced with a small smile. "It's probably the concussion talking, but I enjoyed talking with you. It'd be nice to do it again, maybe when I'm not bleeding profusely."

Opening and closing her mouth, Laura squeaked. "Are you asking me out?"

Carmilla stroked her thumb over the back of Laura's hand. "I guess I am."

"I…" Laura's eyes flicked to her friends, watching the development with eager eyes—she deliberately ignored LaF's thumbs up and cheesy grin—and then back to the girl whose hand she held. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

Laura smiled. "Yeah."

Carmilla returned it. "Great."

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: “actor at a haunted house/person who punches the actor in the face” AU.
> 
> I'm slowly writing my way through all of the awful, cliche tropes. I love them, they're a treasure trove.


End file.
